CHAPTER EIGHT: TRIAL BY FIRE

The night air was heavy with humidity, carrying the briny tang of the bay. Greg adjusted his mask as he moved along the dimly lit street…

The night air was heavy with humidity, carrying the briny tang of the bay. Greg adjusted his mask as he moved along the dimly lit street, his breath steady despite the tension coiled in his chest. Something felt off tonight.

"You shouldn't be out here alone," Blake's voice murmured in his head, edged with worry.

Greg winced. She was right—he knew it deep down—but there was no point in arguing; she could sense his stubborn defiance all too well.

"Greg." This time, it was Weiss, her voice sharper now, laced with disapproval. "You know they're watching you."

He rubbed his face, trying to quell the anxiety rising inside him. "Look, I can't just sit around while you guys drill me day in and day out. I need to do something."

"Oni Lee has already shown interest in you," Weiss pressed. "The ABB won't ignore you forever."

"Or the Merchants. Or E88," Blake added. "You're practically putting a target on your back."

Greg exhaled slowly. "Maybe so. But hiding won't make me stronger."

He felt the collective frustration of his internal team, but there was no further arguing. It wasn't outright disapproval, more like resigned concern. It would have to be enough for now.

Greg turned, preparing to climb onto the next rooftop for a better vantage point. But then the first sign of trouble arrived: the dull clink of metal on pavement. A canister bounced twice before hissing, unleashing a cloud of thick, acrid smoke that slithered along the sidewalk. His gut twisted.

"Move!" Ruby's voice rang out urgently in his mind.

Without hesitation, Greg leapt just as a figure lunged from the smoke, a knife slashing mere inches from where his throat had been a second before. He hit the ground hard, rolling as adrenaline screamed through his veins. Moments later, a gang of ABB thugs emerged from the murk, their weapons glinting in the flickering streetlights.

It was a trap.

The realization dawned on him just before a shot rang out. A bullet slammed into the brick wall beside him, sending shards of masonry flying. Instincts took over, forcing him to dive aside; he rolled behind a dumpster for cover as his heart pounded, each beat echoing in his ears.

"You can't stay there!" Weiss snapped. "They'll box you in!"

She was right. They weren't giving him time to even think. More gunfire erupted, bullets tearing through the alley as if fueled by personal vendettas. Greg risked a glance: three ABB thugs, armed and moving fast.

"Not just mooks," Blake said grimly. "They know what they're doing."

Great. Fantastic. Just what he needed. Greg clenched his fists and dug deep, summoning that familiar spark of power from within.

Then he pushed.

His Aura flared up, the protective field of energy washing over his body. He felt its warmth seep into his limbs and steady his racing heartbeat. The bullets still stung when they hit, but their impacts were blunted, dull bruises instead of bleeding, debilitating wounds.

"Good," Weiss approved. "Stay focused."

Time seemed to slow. Not literally, but his senses sharpened. He could track the trajectories of the bullets, see the shifts and patterns in the attackers' movements. His body felt lighter, almost buoyant, as he kicked off the ground and moved before his enemies could fully react.

The first thug barely registered his approach before a heavy fist slammed into his stomach, sending him sprawling. The second, knife flashing, tried to strike. But Greg twisted away, grabbed his wrist, and yanked him forward into the dumpster with a resounding clang.

The third was faster. Caught off-guard, he swung the butt of his gun at Greg's temple.

"Duck!" Ruby shouted.

Greg dropped just in time, feeling the rush of air as the weapon passed overhead. He kicked out, knocking the thug's legs from under him, but before he could press his advantage, a sudden explosion rocked the alley.

Greg crashed to the ground, ears ringing as smoke thickened around him. This wasn't just a grenade, but something nastier.

"Oni Lee," Blake realized in a hushed tone.

Greg's blood ran cold. He'd seen a glimpse of Oni Lee before on a distant rooftop, silent and eerie. Back then, Greg had convinced himself it was nothing more than intimidation, a grim warning. Now, faced with the infamous ABB enforcer in the heat of battle, it was clear that had only been the prelude. Knowing about Oni Lee was one thing. Surviving him was another.

"Greg, run!" someone shouted in his mind.

He wanted to—God, he wanted to—but deep down he knew he wouldn't get far. Not from Oni Lee.

In a blink, Oni Lee had vanished, replaced by a disintegrating clone. Greg ducked on instinct, then pain exploded along his side. He gasped as a blade slashed across him, and he stumbled, barely catching himself as Oni Lee reappeared a few feet away, his knife dripping with blood.

Reality hit: in that single blow, his Aura had cracked, leaving a thin, spiderweb-like fissure of flickering light spreading across his body.

Oni Lee's next attack came almost immediately.

"Greg!" Ruby's urgent cry echoed in his head.

His body moved before he could fully process the warning, a surge of energy exploding through his limbs. They bloomed into delicate rose petals as he twisted, and Oni Lee's knife passed mere inches from his ribs instead of slicing deep. Greg countered with a desperate kick, but his boot met nothing. Oni Lee had already teleported away.

Greg gritted his teeth. He knew Oni Lee was dangerous, but he also knew the parahuman had limits. Each time he teleported, he left a copy that crumbled to white ash in seconds. If Greg could keep him on the defensive, forcing him to work for every hit—which would limit his options and make predicting his movements easier—maybe he'd stand a chance.

Pushing past the pain, Greg inhaled deeply. His Aura flared once more, its glow steadying as he centered himself. Then he launched forward, feinting left before twisting mid-air and aiming a kick at the spot where he suspected Oni Lee would appear next.

The assassin barely dodged, his teleportation jerking him aside, and the lingering copy of him exploded on impact. But Greg wasn't done with the ABB mooks either. He charged through them, weaving between their attacks, hitting hard and fast.

"You're learning." Weiss sounded almost impressed.

"Don't get cocky," Blake warned.

She was right. Although the ABB thugs began to fall back—some dragging their wounded with them—the fight was far from over.

Oni Lee reappeared one last time, pressing his assault and forcing Greg to fight not only for survival, but to keep control of his unruly powers. The battle blurred into a chaotic rhythm of attacks, dodges, and desperate counters. He wasn't winning, not exactly, but he was holding his ground.

Then Ruby's voice rang urgently, "Behind you!"

Greg spun just as another thug aimed a weapon at his back. He had mere seconds to react. There was no time to plan, only instinct.

He braced himself…

A metallic clang shattered the tense silence. The thug staggered, his weapon clattering to the ground as his wrist twisted unnaturally. Greg blinked. Oni Lee had already vanished, but the remaining ABB members were scattering into the night.

And there, at the mouth of the alley, stood Armsmaster. His halberd was raised, visor gleaming in the faint light, and expression inscrutable.

Greg swallowed hard.

Well.

This just got complicated.